


Shadows of Privelege

by Delirious21



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drabble, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Old Cybertron, Other, deep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25192864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious21/pseuds/Delirious21
Summary: Megatron and his partner are stuck in a collapsed mine shaft, and they learn some more about each other.Tumblr Ask: LL megs is trapped in a cave in, megs is stuck so s/o starts mining, like, real mining and they’re pretty good, turns out they just learned how to mine because they were originally high class and feel sick with themselves with what miners had to go through so... yeah? Maybe some self hate because they just hate that they where such high class snobs
Relationships: Megatron/Bot
Kudos: 6





	Shadows of Privelege

Their little escapade was supposed to be reconnaissance  _ only _ . Ultra Magnus had stressed that well enough before departure. The Lost Light’s planetary scanners were disrupted by the electromagnetic debris in the planet’s atmosphere, but of course that wouldn’t stop Rodimus. He just  _ had  _ to know what was on the thinly-veiled, rocky planet. Abandoned rocky planet. 

Surprise, surprise, rocks. Huge red-brown fissures splitting the murky sky, and crawling tunnels burrowing into the planet’s core. 

Megatron and his newfound partner (their courting had been declared only a week earlier) had split off from the group of Bots exploring the surface to poke around the tunnels. The two walked in companionable quiet, listening for any strange sounds that might indicate danger. Who knew what odd creatures dwelled in the dark ahead of them). 

A mile or so deep, Megatron stopped to examine a corroded box of sorts that was tucked into the shadows. He’d noticed the scars in the surrounding rock earlier, the silver marks where tools once struck, but so far the mine appeared barely tapped. Megatron didn’t have to call for his partner, they’d already turned towards him, optics wide in the dark. They backtracked and joined him at the box. 

Stooping down, they brushed a thick layer of dust away and asked, “Tools, you think?”

They looked up and Megatron thought, for a second, that they looked too innocent to be in a mine, abandoned or not. He nodded and glanced behind him, as if some lone remaining miner was lurking out of sight.

“I am wary,” he started, “of a mine barely touched, yet barren.” 

His significant other stood. “We aren’t very far in, though.”

“No, we are not. But do you see any sign of valuable minerals?”

“No, but—”

The tunnel trembled, scattering small chunks of rock and kicking up dust. Without thinking, Megatron threw himself on top of his partner and clutched them tight, his frame the only shield they had. The roar of the quake and falling rock was so deafening that, when everything stilled again, there was an incessant ringing in both bots’ audials. 

“Megatron?”

The voice was muffled and he wasn’t certain that someone had spoken until something moved under him. They said his name again, like they were summoning him from Deep Space, but instead of floating in nothingness, he was pinned down. He turned his helm and met familiar optics. He blinked slow, convincing himself that his lover wasn’t a hallucination. 

They wriggled from underneath him, fighting debris as they did. Thankfully, they weren’t injured and managed to dig their way to a small pocket of space, a miniature cave in the collapsed tunnel. 

“Can you hear me?” they called.

Megatron groaned, hoping they heard. Only minutes later, a sound from his nightmares rang out, louder than the ringing in his helm. It came again and he shuddered, diverting his attention to the pain in his legs and the pins and needles gathering in his joints. He teetered on the line of consciousness and emptiness, and he wasn’t sure what his reality looked like anymore. Was there someone chipping away at the rubble crushing him, or was that a demon from his past announcing its approach?

_ POV SHIFT cuz. . . yeah :)

With every swing of the pickaxe, Megatron’s partner pushed on. They had to reach him, no matter how much rock and broken earth stood in the way. They remembered their first cave-in. An early detonation on the surface had sent shocks down into the mineshaft they were working in. Three mechs died, and they —the rookie— were trapped with the others’ corpses. They cringed to think how long they would’ve been left down there had their sire not been in the Senate. 

They swung extra hard, relishing the burn in their shoulders. They took a break to send out another distress signal to anyone in range and check on Megatron. 

“Megatron, are you awake?” 

No response. 

“I’ve got to be close,” they muttered to themself. 

“A miner,” Megatron managed, “but you knew Senator Proteus.” His voice, warped with pain, echoed what little distance there was left between them. Of course he knew about his partner’s old Senate connections, but only on a superficial level. 

“I. . .” How could they explain this to  _ Megatron _ ? Their relationship was only budding, and full disclosure hadn’t been a condition of their courting, but it felt wrong to keep this from him. They opted for insufficiency. “I wasn’t a miner. Not like you.”

They returned to their work and Megatron returned to his plagued silence. 

Finally,  _ finally _ , Megatron was uncovered and, by some miracle, the tunnel hadn’t collapsed from all the movement. His legs were ruined, mangled and completely useless. So, without a word, his partner propped him up against a sloped rockwall and continued their work, desperate for an escape route. It was difficult ignoring Megatron’s unabashed gaze, his evaluating and cynical optics. 

“You move like a miner,” he said, “but you aren’t a miner.” The question in the statement was clear.

His partner didn’t stop chipping away at the rock. “I was born into the upper class.”

“And your connection to Proteus?”

They couldn’t tell if Megatron was furious or hoarse from the dust.

“My sire, but I’m a bastard child.” As if that remedied anything. They paused to chance a glimpse of Megatron. Flat face, impossible to read. “I hated it, every second of it.”

He snorted. “You hated your privilege? I pity you.” Angry, definitely angry.

His partner, though they doubted that title would be lasting much longer, slipped on their next swing. The blade of the pickaxe snapped off its base and skittered off the rock, slashing the back of their servo. They dropped the handle and sank to the ground.

“I couldn’t stand watching the lower classes struggle while grandeur was a commonality for me. So, I blackmailed Proteus.” They couldn’t look up, wouldn’t dare meet Megatron’s gaze. “I was young and naive, making demands about an equality I knew nothing about. Proteus muzzled me, but I was dumb and stubborn. Behind his and my carrier’s backs I snuck into the mines and worked, just one of the numbers. I documented everything I witnessed, but even after it was published, nothing changed.” Recounting it all made them feel dirty and they hung their helm. “I wasn’t going to let my socioeconomic standing blind me to the horrors that so many others experienced daily.”

Megatron said nothing for a while. When he did speak, it was a sort of hush, but no less powerful than his normal tone. “What you found in the mines was truth, yet you would have never found it had you not flaunted your privilege.” He took a slow, grating breath. “So tell me, what good came of it all?”

They risked making eye contact. There was no rage in Megatron’s optics, only the exhaustion of a mech who’s lived a thousand lives. 

“What good comes from anything?”

Megatron thought a moment then beckoned them closer and took their bleeding servo. He examined the wound before pulling a cloth and bandage from his subspace and doctoring it. His grip was warm and careful.

His partner watched him work. “What good  _ did  _ come of it?” they asked. 

“Every time I believe I know, it is only my imagination.” He finished wrapping their servo and tugged them closer. “There is no shame in not having an answer,” he said. 

The two leaned against one another in quiet contemplation, lost to themselves and only existing in their relation to the other. Mining could wait. 


End file.
